


where this leads

by choicolatte



Category: GOT7
Genre: 2young at it again, M/M, best man jinyoung: the one single man, cute and confused but eventually they kith, drunk at the wedding reception au, some suggestive content bec i'm a wuss, wedding singer youngjae: claiming the heart of The single man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choicolatte/pseuds/choicolatte
Summary: We'll run into each other, and I won't leave you. I need you.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	where this leads

**Author's Note:**

> edit: jan 01 3:23pm.  
> i can't believe the amount of typos i made on this fic. >< i reread the whole thing, and fixed most of them.. i think lol  
> but anyway, take two on this side note before you read !! i just want to give a shoutout and a huge thank you to lovely paige, @ourspring on here, for thinking up such a cute wedding singer au prompt for 2young :') i asked her permission to make a fic out of it, and i hope it is to her (and everyone else's) liking aaa  
> aight on to the fic we go

He shouldn’t be nervous — he was only the best man, after all. In fact, Jinyoung was ready to stand before the groom and witness a beautiful ceremony that would commemorate a new journey of life for the newlyweds. 

Marriage was something that did pass Jinyoung’s mind nowadays, seeing as this is the third wedding he has attended over the span of a year. The pressure of finding a “plus one” for his attendance was definitely felt, but Jinyoung decided to keep his chin up and cross out the box that they only needed to reserve one seat and one meal for him with dignity. He shouldn’t feel the need to have a date just for somebody else’s special day, he thought it silly and dismissed the anxiety rippling in his gut.

While most of his friends came with their own long-term partners, or newly formed relationships, Jinyoung went by himself and his pride. What made up his single reputation was the way he dressed himself to each wedding he had gone to, making sure that if he couldn’t walk the aisle with someone else holding his hand, then he sure needed to walk that aisle looking like he didn’t need anyone else with him anyway. 

His friends tease him, especially Jackson. They’re both friends with the same people, so at this third wedding when they had seen a glimpse of one another in a crowd of people at the lobby area, Jinyoung already knew what was coming at him. 

“Where’s the lucky lady and/or lad?” Jackson asks, shock apparent in his features. Jinyoung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the obvious teasing his friend was doing — they just had a conversation about this a week ago, and Jinyoung didn’t want to repeat himself any longer without looking like a fool. 

“Where’s yours?” He, instead, snaps back. Jackson’s eyes twinkle in amusement, knowing the effect he has on his friend whenever he pokes fun at him for things he denies to ever be slightly conscious about. “In the restroom,” Jackson replies smoothly. 

“I told you I’d get you a date if you just asked,” he adds.

“I didn’t want one,” Jinyoung grits his teeth, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation about his lone appearance on the third wedding. “Besides, it would’ve been too late to change my RSVP option, and I didn’t want to burden the bride and the groom.” 

“Excuses, excuses. You know Kyunghee wouldn’t have minded — he probably would’ve felt ecstatic for you!” Jackson protests, bringing his hands onto Jinyoung’s shoulder for emphasis. He squeezes it tightly, looking at the man with pouting lips. 

“You deserve a partner that will see through this act, Jinyoungie. I know so.” 

“The day hasn’t come for that yet. And I’m not desperate enough to find that person,” Jinyoung defends himself; he was speaking the truth. 

It wasn’t as if the man was a virgin at 26— there was nothing wrong with that, however— but it has been at least three years since his last relationship ended, and it was his first and serious one at that. Jinyoung wasn’t the type to jump right into another love affair so easily, not after what he had endured with his first lover. 

Jackson knows all of this, and he had sympathized every year after the break-up, but he knew it was just the right amount of time to venture onto new things, new _people_. 

Jinyoung always denied any opportunity presented to him by his friends with a blind date. He would be respectful, engaging with the person throughout the night but never really bringing up the notion that he was interested in a budding relationship. 

All of the people Jackson had brought over had relayed to him how gentle and kind Jinyoung was, but was very adamant in keeping himself closed off beyond such pleasantries. 

Sometimes, being a gentleman _does_ backfire — but Jackson couldn’t let that get past Jinyoung’s head. He knows that when Jinyoung decides something for himself, he’ll keep to his word until the day he dies. 

“Fine,” Jackson relents. Jinyoung heaves a sigh of relief, thinking that the topic of his questionable love life has finally come to an end. 

“But we’re getting you wasted tonight, and you’re going home with someone who you find super hot and is willing to put up with your lonesome ass.” 

Jinyoung wants to do a number on Jackson right there and then, but his partner had showed up and the Hong Kong native suddenly looked as if he had been innocent through the exchange prior.

For now, Jinyoung will stand right next to his good friend at the end of the aisle, cheer him on silently, and get through the day without feeling the creeping loneliness his gut is sending him into. 

* * *

His first relationship wasn’t as terrible as he had remembered, Jinyoung just sometimes wonders if he were able to see the red flags leading up to the explosive fight they had before finally cutting the cord would have somehow saved the love they poured all over each other. 

He tells himself to stop thinking, three years have passed and he has seen enough social media posts shared on his timeline to note that his ex-partner had moved on completely, and is now seemingly in love and happy with someone else. 

Jinyoung tells himself that it’s fine, even good for him to let it sink in and maybe download that dating app Jackson kept pestering him about. He did, mind you, sign up and even make a short bio with a few pictures of himself uploaded on his profile. Did he ever make it public and actually see if he found a few matches?

Jinyoung will never say. 

_But maybe Jackson is right_ , Jinyoung ponders as the church pews get filled up with familiar faces and their hands intertwined with people that they love and cherish for. He misses the feeling of really caring for someone that intensely, as the only people he ever really took the time to cherish that way are his family, and a few of his close friends. 

Now, his family is threatening to disown him by the next holiday gathering if he still won’t bring over someone he’d plan to marry, and all of his closest friends have rings on their fingers or are beginning to shop for one. 

Jinyoung feels the weight of his phone in his pocket, the dating app icon burning in the back of his mind. Before his sudden irrationality take over his decision-making skills, a melody softly trickles from the corner of the church and exude its way into the main hall. His ears perk up, the familiar wedding song should be less surprising and nerve-inducing to him by now having heard it two times already, but the way that the music settles into his ears somehow calm him down.

He sucks in a breath, looking over at the groom whose face is glistens with sweat. Jinyoung takes out his trusty handkerchief and nudges it over the nervous man. He takes it, nodding his head over to Jinyoung as a silent form of thanks. He smiles in response, and finally calms himself down. 

This is what he’s best at, comforting others at the expense of his own — not that it’s a bad thing, really, Jinyoung is just the kind of guy who puts people before him, and is content in seeing others’ satisfaction thereafter. 

The music continues to sway the emotions of the attendees as more guests make their way up to the front of the aisle before parting ways and seating themselves on the first rows. Jinyoung feels a sense of awe and admiration at the combination of people in dresses and suits walking gracefully at the rhythm of the music. 

It was as if the pianist knew how to make the atmosphere feel smooth and filled with a calm nature instead of being washed away with nerves that something _might_ go wrong. 

Jinyoung finds the source of the beautiful sound, spotting a grand white piano at the other end of the platform where he stood, and sees the darkest of black hair popping up from his view. He couldn’t exactly observe the person behind the delightful music, but Jinyoung decides this might be the best pianist he has heard so far. 

_Maybe he could hire him for his own wedding soon_ , he jokes in his head. His eyes finds Jackson in the third row, looking at him smugly as if he had been reading his thoughts all this time. 

Jinyoung only smiles at him with tight lips, not wanting to cause a scene at a vital part of the ceremony. 

The wedding continues on, and the pianist overflows the hall with his mesmerizing control over the keys. Jinyoung thinks this is the happiest he has seen his friend look like — who wouldn’t be when the love of your life stands before you in that radiant, white gown, and her smile ever glowing against the lights on the ceiling. 

Jinyoung imagines himself in the position where the groom kneels, a shadow of a person right beside him. He couldn’t make out a face for whoever his future partner will be, but Jinyoung feels the warmth in his body just thinking about a life spent together with a person who just _gets_ every part of you. 

The warmth dissipates, and Jinyoung is left with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he continues to wait around without really doing much to find that person, will he ever share this kind of peace and serenity in the future at all?

The wedding flutters like the breeze, and before he could realize the music started playing once more and the newlyweds have shared their vows, exchanged their rings, and have kissed for the first time as Mr and Mrs. 

Jinyoung claps in sync with the other guests who have now stood up in their pews, the bright smiles and loud cheers trying to mask the enticing sounds of the piano that Jinyoung couldn’t get himself to stop focusing on. 

“Congratulations,” he manages to tell the groom with the tears welling in his eyes. “Keep the handkerchief, you’ll probably need it again.”

“Thanks, Jinyoung,” Kyunghee laughs, wiping off the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t believe Mina would marry a crybaby like me, huh?”

“If it’s the right person, they won’t care,” Jinyoung reassures him, feeling an arrow piercing through his own heart and choking up his voice. 

He coughs to let it out once more, shooing off the groom so the photographers can take the pictures they needed. He reunites his Jackson up on the platform, side hugging each other and momentarily forgetting about the comment he had made earlier. 

The music had stopped abruptly, and Jinyoung shoots a look over at the grand piano where a man in a suit walks away from it. His back is turned, but Jinyoung doesn’t miss the posture he had and the hand that cards through what looked like soft, bouncy hair. He gulps down hard, feeling embarrassed for checking out the pianist of all people. He focuses his attention on the friends that had come up on stage for the pictures, and smiles for the camera. 

* * *

Jinyoung had finished his best man speech, the whole room laughing at the jokes he had inserted and saying their collective “awws” at the memories he chose to share. As expected, the groom was close to bawling his eyes out, and the bride chuckles at his reaction, mouths a “thank you” to Jinyoung before kissing her beloved on the cheeks. 

Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel that intimate act of affection in his chest; on one hand, emotions of pride and joy for his friend evident on his features but on the other, a sting of longing fail to leave him. He bows down to end his time on stage, the cheers coming to a soft hum of silence. Jinyoung places the microphone on the small table next to him, until the bride announces that _Youngjae_ would be up next, singing a song he prepared for them. He stays still in his spot, suddenly unable to move his feet as he notices the same person he kept his eyes glued on during the church ceremony stand up from a table on the left side. This man, Youngjae, bows slightly before the people surrounding his table, and starts walking his way up to the stage. 

Everyone begins clapping quietly for him, but Jinyoung remains in awe of what he sees. 

“Thank you, Mina,” he says out loud to the bride. Jinyoung watches the way Youngjae smiles shyly over to the newlyweds, bowing once more out of respect and maybe even just to settle down his own nerves. 

Youngjae lets a hand through his slightly messy hair once more, the several rings donning his fingers shimmering underneath the spotlight. He turns to Jinyoung, and the first thing that catches his attention is the mole resting underneath Youngjae’s eye. 

Jinyoung watches the way Youngjae scrunches up his nose for a second, his cheeks round and the skin smooth like fine glass. He finally sees the outfit he is wearing up close, the black suit and tie matching his figure so elegantly. It feels like it’s been hours since him and Youngjae have been standing on the small stage together, their eyes meeting at a glance until Youngjae looks down at the microphone being gripped by Jinyoung’s shaking fingers. 

“Jinyoung-ssi, was it? May I take the microphone from you?” 

His voice sent Jinyoung’s head in a spin, but his automatic response took over before he can make himself out to be a fool in front of so many people, let alone in front of Youngjae. 

“O-of course. Take it away, Youngjae-ssi,” he manages to let out as corny as it sounds — Jackson will _definitely_ mention this once he gets back to the table. 

Jinyoung grabs the microphone and hands it over to Youngjae, their fingertips brushing ever so slightly. It’s soft, and warm — and Jinyoung couldn’t believe how much emotions are brewing in his heart due to such bare minimum interactions. 

They share a polite smile, and Jinyoung hurries himself off the stage and back in his seat where he finds Jackson with his smirk already permanently painted on his face. 

He tries to avoid it for a few seconds, but the looming image of Jackson’s inevitable teasing forces him to face the man. 

“Don’t say it. _Don’t_.”

Jackson raises his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “I’m not saying anything.” 

“Your face _says_ otherwise.”

“I will keep my mouth shut, and you will listen to Youngjae sing and feel something bothering you under _there_ ,” Jackson points out indiscreetly, “and you’ll finally understand what I’ve been saying all these years.”

Jinyoung decides to keep quiet, crossing his arms in response instead in an attempt to defend himself to some of the truth in Jackson’s words. As perverted as his friend sounded, Jinyoung did _not_ want to disrespect Youngjae’s performance like that, but he couldn’t deny the fact that his heart has been beating rapidly since meeting him up on the stage face to face.

If his piano playing skills already impressed him during the wedding ceremony, how would he react to him singing? 

Jinyoung tries to hide his surprise, but Youngjae’s voice sends him in a flurry of adoration. He isn’t familiar with the song, but the words all echo themes of love, intimacy, and vowing to spend each other’s waking moments side by side. The spotlight shines on Youngjae’s figure, blurring out the audience sitting in tables in awe at his presence. 

Even the newlyweds fade out in the background — or maybe this was in part of Jinyoung’s imagination. 

Youngjae sung on the stage as if he owned it, the subtle steps he made back and forth and the hand gestures on certain words make the song even more meaningful to the ears. The past two weddings didn’t hire a singer for the reception, only played a couple of songs picked out by the bride and groom for their first dance and for the rest of the event..

Jinyoung didn’t realize the effect Youngjae emanated throughout the crowd. No one is moving nor speaking in hushed tones as the attention is directed towards the velvet voice coming out of Youngjae’s lips. He draws in the crowd with the way he sings with his heart out, and his emotions duly enamored with each syllable his lips speak in melodies, and the subtle facial expressions he would match with the words.

Youngjae, himself, is entranced with his own stage presence, and Jinyoung couldn’t help but smile at the passionate man singing before them. He takes in every note, every breath, and every hum that Youngjae fills into the mic — Jinyoung closes his eyes momentarily as an effort to immortalize the image of Youngjae, pretending that the love he poured in each word he sung was directed to him, and to him only. 

He opens his eyes instantly, embarrassment creeping upon his cheeks for thinking something so beyond him — the last time he had felt so intrigued yet captivated by someone else’s voice was his ex-partner’s, the way that they jokingly sung each other to sleep became tradition once the other was stationed to work abroad.

Jinyoung didn’t want to compare Youngjae with a now bitter flashback, but memories of what was once the center of his universe return to the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t shake it off. 

With the way that Youngjae sings in perfect tune of the song, it was impossible that he didn’t already do that behind closed doors with someone he cherished himself. 

With the way that his body moves harmoniously along with the lilt of his chest voice, it was impossible that Youngjae wasn’t already spending his personal time lulling his significant other to sleep with beautiful lullabies, or melting the very same person with the soft yet mesmerizing gaze he had showed Jinyoung for a few minutes on stage. 

Jinyoung feels his heart drop to the floor. Realizing how lonely he felt deep within his core, and how much envy has accumulated in his veins just thinking about Youngjae loving someone so intensely, coming back to that special person after this event he was only hired to do — Jinyoung is wrecked with regret.

It doesn’t register in his mind that he’s wrapped around one of the rings Youngjae has worn on his fingers, but Jinyoung definitely recognizes the loneliness he has been feeding himself with all this time. 

The song comes to a stop, and Jinyoung shakes his head to come back to reality. Youngjae bows down as the audience finally clap and praise him for a beautiful performance, some even standing up to acknowledge the beauty of his voice that moved them to tears. Jackson is one of them, hollering Youngjae’s name as if they had known each other for years. 

Jinyoung couldn’t get himself to do so, he stays planted on his seat with his hands gripping each other tightly. Youngjae says a few congratulatory wishes to the newlyweds before making his way back to his table over at the other side of the room. He is surrounded by a few people that Jinyoung doesn’t recognize, one man in particular snaking his arm around Youngjae’s arm too closely while giving him a tight squeeze of comfort. 

Youngjae is almost an ocean away from Jinyoung, but the latter doesn’t miss the bright smile that Youngjae gave to the person sharing an intimate space with him. 

Jinyoung laughs sardonically to himself which catches Jackson’s attention. 

“What’s so funny, Jinyoungie?” 

“Everything,” Jinyoung answers plainly, yet his voice croaks just the tiniest bit. Jackson picks up the tension emanating from his friend, but he chooses to keep that to himself. 

Jackson didn’t want his friend to feel _this_ miserable tonight for that was the exact opposite of what he hoped Jinyoung to remember this night by. He moves the empty wine glass over to Jinyoung’s side, offering a small smile. 

“Let’s just drink and have fun, okay?” Jackson offers him.

Jinyoung stares at the measly reflection of his face on the glass. He looks up at Jackson’s worried features before nodding his head adamantly. “Fuck it. Get me drunk, Jackson.”

* * *

Jinyoung is a social drinker, but he rarely drinks at huge events that comprise of more than his close knit group of friends. He hates feeling vulnerable around people he doesn’t know very well, so he always happily obliges to being the automatic designated driver during nights that turn into drunken sessions with his friends. 

He’d take a shot or two sometimes, but nothing over his limit to staying sober. He’s had his fair share of overly clingy behavior that he doesn’t want a repeat of anymore. 

However, right now, Jinyoung has flung that worry out of his head and brought in a sort of mischief and newfound sense of bravery to go all in tonight. He can just crash at Jackson’s place or something, his partner wouldn’t mind since Jinyoung literally had to drag Jackson’s ass up to their door whenever he would get himself too shitfaced to call a cab and go back alone. 

Jackson insists he should go home with someone he thinks is cute enough and has a nice place to sleep in. Jinyoung blocks off any and all sorts of encouragement from Jackson to introduce himself to pretty faces tonight — it might be the solution he needed to ease the loneliness in wrecking his sanity at the moment, but Jinyoung’s mind was too hazy to even distinguish people he already knew, and others he can take a chance upon. 

_They might just as well be cuffed anyway_ , Jinyoung surmises, so why should he even bother trying? 

Another glass of champagne seems to materialize itself in front of him, and he downs the whole drink without breathing. The groom had passed by him a couple of times to ask if he was okay, but Jinyoung only shoved him away with a breathy chuckle, telling him to focus on his bride or something to that extent — not be seen with a sore loser like him. 

Jinyoung had already lost sight of Jackson, but that wasn’t his main concern of the night any longer. Compared to the soft and graceful music that swooned over the hearts of guests during the wedding ceremony, the reception hall boomed with loud and heavy beats instead. His head continues to feel dizzy, so Jinyoung decides to sit this one out and just mindlessly people watch the dance floor from his seat. 

He spots Jackson dancing alongside his partner, his smile never faltering from his face. _Lucky bastard_ , Jinyoung thinks to himself, putting the rim of the glass to his lips only to be met with a tiny droplet of alcohol. He blinks away his confusion, one thing prevalent in his mind: the bar. 

Jinyoung manages to squeeze through the crowd until he found what he was looking for. There was one empty seat available next to a blur of a man, so Jinyoung sits himself down the stool a little too aggressively, grazing the floor as it moves him a little to the right. 

He bumps shoulders with the person beside him, and Jinyoung hiccups a small “sorry,” before calling over the barista for a glass of peach margarita. He hears a question about his identification card. 

Jinyoung sighs, digging deep into his pocket for his wallet. He takes it out and clumsily files through his cards until he finds what he is looking for. With slippery fingers, the card falls down onto the ground and Jinyoung chuckles in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, hands kinda ticklish right now.” 

“Do you mean slippery?” Someone asks him in amusement. The voice sounded sweet and calming, something Jinyoung had definitely heard before. 

“Same thing,” Jinyoung dismisses, flailing his hand in the air in an attempt to grab his ID card to no avail. His drunken state remembers it had dropped to the floor, but before he can react to his delayed realization, the person sitting next to him had seemed to have retrieved it already, giving it to the barista who confirmed his age. 

Jinyoung watches as hands decorated with silver rings slide his ID back to him. He places it in his wallet and shoves it right back in his pocket, turning his head to see Youngjae smiling at him. 

“Are you sure you still want to drink, Jinyoung-ssi? Do you want some water first?” Youngjae asks. The proximity of their figures sends Jinyoung into a frenzy of panicking nerves, the alcohol in his system amplifying the fast pace of his heart beat. 

He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so when the barista comes back with the cocktail he requested Youngjae had taken it before more alcohol is poured down Jinyoung’s throat, and switches it with a glass of water he had all this time. 

“I’ll take it from here, thanks,” Youngjae directs towards the barista — or at least, that’s what Jinyoung thinks is happening. 

“Drink some water, first. It’ll make you feel better.”

Youngjae waits patiently for Jinyoung to respond, but the older just switches his glance from the glass to Youngjae about five times in a row. His eyes have shrunk significantly, and his cheeks emanate that so-called Asian glow, let alone his ears — Jinyoung feels the most warmth coming from the tips of his ears, but he is too incoherent to say something to perhaps excuse his blushing appearance. 

Youngjae laughs at the endearing sight before him, nudging the glass of water even closer to Jinyoung. “Jinyoung-ssi, are you feeling alright? Do you want me to call the groom and have you taken home?” 

“No,” is Jinyoung’s abrupt response, taking the water and gulping it to the very last drop as if his life depended on it — it kind of did, as the trickle of water down his dry throat help clear out the mist looming over his consciousness. 

He was still overwhelmingly drunk, don’t get him wrong, but he can finally speak a little clearer and see Youngjae’s face with the details he missed before making his grand entrance towards the bar. 

“Don’t call anyone. I’m totally— _hiccup_ —fine. Super— _hiccup_ — dandy. _God_ , this water tastes so good.”

“Have some more, here.” It was as if Youngjae had a limited supply of glasses of water with him, but Jinyoung didn’t openly question it and just chugged it down until his stomach couldn’t take anymore liquid inside. 

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Jinyoung burps out loud, covering his mouth just as quick before shielding his eyes away. He would try and slip out of the conversation with Youngjae, but that might come off as disrespectful and Jinyoung doesn’t want to appear even more unkempt and with no morals in front of someone he had been ogling the whole night. 

“It’s nothing, Jinyoung-ssi. Do you feel a little bit better?”

“I do. Also, Jinyoung is fine.” Headache pounding his skill, Jinyoung closes his eyes shut to ease the pain. “My head. It hurts like hell, though.” 

“I have some aspirin in my bag. I can get some for you,” Youngjae tells him, his voice laced with worry. The fact that this stranger, that he found cute by the way, was concerned for his well-being embarrassed Jinyoung even more — but the mention of something that could possibly sober him up and face the regretful decisions he had made tonight was terrifying, but also a relief to his migraine nonetheless. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it a lot,” Jinyoung squeaks out. “Youngjae… right?” He didn’t need to ask; Jinyoung knew all this time who he was talking to — but it was nice to say his name out loud like that. Jinyoung decides he likes the way Youngjae’s name rolls of his tongue. 

Maybe it was the alcohol tricking him into thinking the name _Youngjae_ gave him goosebumps, but the hairs on his forearms deem otherwise with Jinyoung suddenly shuddering to himself. 

“Yeah,” Youngjae affirms with a slight surprise on his face, unwittingly aware of the mental battle happening inside Jinyoung’s head. The younger’s lips soon fades to a shy smile, his own cheeks blushing pink at Jinyoung’s accurate memory of his name albeit his inebriated state at the moment. “I didn’t think you’d remember my name.” 

“How could I not? You’re the most gorgeous person in this room. No offense to the bride, though, she has his husband ogling over her for the rest of their lives already. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you on stage a while ago if you couldn’t tell,” Jinyoung blurts out without stopping for a breath, or a quick contemplation of his decision to spill his inner thoughts on his attraction towards the very man he just confessed to. 

“I mean, everyone else felt the same way. You sang really beautifully is all I’m saying, not like I’m into you or anything—” Jinyoung stops himself before anything else comes out of his mouth. 

The air around him feels stuffy, and he has this strong urge to loosen up his tie and take off his suit due to how sticky his skin felt against the fabric of his clothing. 

He’s never encountered anything like this before, and Jinyoung with his messed up perm and sweat trickling down his temple is not the kind of person he’s used to becoming _at_ all. The reason why he always swore off getting intoxicated in large groups of people is his inability to keep his walls up and his mask untouched. 

Youngjae is just breaking down every bit of facade he brought to this event, and in every other gathering prior. 

“You stay right where you are, okay? I’ll grab you some aspirin and find someone who knows you so they can take you home.”

“You can take me home instead,” Jinyoung mutters under his breath but Youngjae had already left his spot at the bar. The older pouts at his sudden absence, momentarily forgetting why Youngjae had to leave in the first place. He whips his head over to the direction of Youngjae’s table, god knows how he was able to remember that, and sees a glimpse of him talking to some guy — the same guy who had been a little too buddy-buddy with him once he had finished his performance. 

“Oh, he’s already taking someone home tonight,” Jinyoung sighs to himself. He brings his palm to rest his heavy head, the dread that had temporarily left his body back to haunt him even stronger. The peach margarita he had ordered — but was justifiably denied by Youngjae earlier — sits on the table untouched. He tries to defy the urge to keep drinking the sorrow away, but his lips needed more action, and the only thing they are probably touching tonight is another glass of regret in the form of a wedding cocktail. 

He finishes by the drop, again, and Youngjae stands behind me with his mouth agape. 

“I brought the aspirin, but I see you’ve tried self-medicating already.”

“Youngjae! Back so soon?” Jinyoung hollers, turning 180 degrees in order to face him. Thinking that he’s regained much of his self-awareness, Jinyoung wobbles in his seat, needing to be held by Youngjae on the shoulders to keep him still. 

His grip made Jinyoung tense up even more, but Youngjae doesn’t seem to notice and leaves his hands resting on either side of him, his worry etched deeper into his features. Jinyoung looks up, having the desire to kiss away the crease that had formed in between Youngjae’s eyebrows, and tracing the outline of his parted lips with the tiniest caress. 

“I think you need to go home,” Youngjae notes, taking his hands off of him. Jinyoung steadies himself on his seat, his stubborn nature revealing itself slowly. 

“I’m not as drunk as you think I am. I can handle a couple more.”

“Yup. I’m not believing any word that you say from here on out. Take this aspirin, please, and let me find Kyunghee hyung so you can go home,” Youngjae instructs, a flustered Jinyoung continuing to shake his head and pushing off the aspirin in the younger’s hand. 

Youngjae sighs in defeat, placing the packaged pill in the inside of his suit pocket and dusting off his pants as a way to compose himself. He was far from annoyed as he was more so frustrated for himself by not knowing how to properly take care of Jinyoung. He didn’t want him to possibly be swept away by someone with ill intentions, but Youngjae also didn’t want to impose himself to bring him home either. 

They’ve only just met, and not even in the formal sense of the word, so Youngjae’s last resort is to call the new husband and ask for further instructions on how to keep the best man in check. 

Youngjae pulls out the aspirin and places it right next to the empty glass, letting Jinyoung know one more time that he was going to come back for him until he hears the older speak up. 

“Okay, then. I think you’re _super_ hot, and my friend Jackson said I should go home with someone who I think is really hot, which is _you_ , so I’m not going anywhere unless it’s _you_ who’s taking me to that place — away from here, which is _your_ apartment. Or house. Or wherever you live. As long as it’s with _you_.” 

Jinyoung thinks he is booming with confidence, but really his eyes remain droopy and his breath was the scent of a club on a Friday night. 

Youngjae doesn’t know how to react — first, he’s confused as to why Jinyoung had to emphasize the word “you” in every sentence he had just uttered in less than ten seconds, and secondly, who was Jackson and was he at the reception? As much as Youngjae is amused at the state of what he thought was a very-well composed man, his first priority was to get him safely home. 

“I don’t know about taking you to my place, Jinyoung hyung, but I didn’t drink tonight, so I’m sober enough to drive you home instead. Does that sound good to you?” Youngjae tries to search for any semblance of sobriety in Jinyoung’s eyes, but when he inches his face closer to inspect he is only met with the stench of alcohol that sends him choking up at its intensity. 

Judging by the way he basically wobbled onto the bar, Youngjae believes Jinyoung had way too many drinks tonight than he can handle himself. 

Whether it was due to the celebration that Jinyoung took advantage of the free drinks or if this was his excuse to get wasted and get _laid_ by someone equally unable to discern what’s left from right, Youngjae doesn’t deem it safe for Jinyoung to continue going on like this at the party any longer. 

If he can’t seem to get ahold of Jinyoung’s awareness of his surroundings and tell him who Jackson is, and what street he lives on so he can get dropped off without airing out any private information, then Youngjae has to take matters into his own hands. 

Jinyoung blinks once, and he is immediately getting dragged out of the reception hall and into a dimly lit parking lot. His feet seems to be walking on their own, but he realizes there is a hand looped around his arm to keep him afloat from the haziness of his mind. 

“Jackson?” He croaks out after five minutes of silence from him. 

Youngjae, astonished at the sudden squeak from the drunk man before him says, “Nope, sorry. You won’t tell me who Jackson is, and I sure as hell didn’t want to shout his name over fifty drunk people at the party to find him. It’s still Youngjae.” 

“Where are you taking me?” Jinyoung continues to question, not entirely dawning upon him his situation at hand. 

“Well, I’ll ask you one more time. Which street do you live on?” Youngjae asks patiently.

“The street in your heart.” 

“Great. We’re going to my place, Jinyoung hyung.” 

Jinyoung huffs a breath, his throat beginning to dry out once again due to not having any contact with alcohol or any liquid substance for that matter in a seemingly long time for him. “Is there alcohol at your place?” 

Youngjae chuckles, halting them near a car. He lets Jinyoung go for a second so he can open the door to the passenger side. The sight of a cushioned seat enticed Jinyoung’s tired body as he slithers himself into the warmth of the car. Youngjae closes the door gently, and hops into the other side. 

“There is, but you’re not drinking any of it. I have lots of water, though. You like water, right?” Youngjae amuses him as he starts the engine. He takes out his phone and types out a message to the friends he came with at the wedding, as well as to the newlyweds. Turning on the music in the softest volume, Youngjae shift the gear to drive to take them to his apartment. 

“I guess water will do,” Jinyoung mumbles. His eyes have gotten so tired since the start of the night, but he couldn’t get himself to doze off completely. The scent of the car brings him little clearance as to where he is, which was unfamiliar to his senses, but the feeling of someone’s hand wrapped around his fingers deemed comforting enough for Jinyoung to be assured he’s safe. 

“Why do you have so many rings on your fingers? You have a lot of hoes?” Jinyoung suddenly asks, maneuvering their intertwined hands to get a feel of the cold touch of each ring on Youngjae’s fingers. He’s never held hands with anyone who loved such an accessory before, hell the only hand he has ever held romantically felt rough and dry to which Jinyoung would always bring up to his ex-partner. It wasn’t anything serious that they fought over, but Jinyoung is feeling the contrast between that and now, and he definitely is starting to prefer Youngjae’s warmth over anything else.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered, but no. I don’t have a lot of _hoes_ ,” Youngjae laughs. “I just like wearing rings, I guess. It’s nothing different compared to people wearing tons of piercings on their ears, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t really wear earrings. Or wear rings for that matter. I’m a pretty lame guy,” Jinyoung’s voice grows small at his own observation of his decision to keep his body unmodified and pure as dull and boring compared to Youngjae. 

“You’re not lame,” Youngjae counters, squeezing their intertwined hands a little tighter. Jinyoung thinks it’s weird they were holding hands in the first place, but he didn’t want to be the guy to mention it out loud and make things awkward. “I don’t know much about you, but I heard from the bride that her now husband’s best man is an amazing preschool teacher.” 

“Mina said that? How do you know her, anyway?” Jinyoung ignores the compliment, but the warmth in his cheeks prove it hard to be nonchalant about it nonetheless. 

“My brother is best friends with her brother, so I’ve met her when we were younger but only through that association. A few months ago, my brother got an invitation for their wedding but he couldn’t make the date due to a previous business commitment so he asked me to go in his place instead.” 

“Was he supposed to be the wedding singer too?” 

“No, that’s just a coincidence that they were looking for a wedding singer, and I just happen to be one,” Youngjae admits shyly, the grip on Jinyoung’s hand faltering slightly due to his own embarrassment of talking about his chosen career. Jinyoung lets him go as Youngjae needed both hands to turn the steering wheel into a street. 

“My brother told me he had suggested to hire me as one since I didn’t want to impose myself for the job, but they were more than happy to do so which was such an honor. They asked if I could write a song for the wedding, and they’d pay more for it but I was willing to do it for my original rate either way. I just really love to sing.”

Youngjae parks the car at a full parking lot, turning the engine off before sighing to himself. He looks over at Jinyoung who has gone quiet, thinking that he had dozed himself to sleep from his boring conversation starters. Instead, Youngjae meets Jinyoung’s intense gaze on him, totally transfixed at his story. 

“You wrote the song? That you sang up there?”

“Yeah… oh god, don’t tell me it was actually bad and you were just being nice!” Youngjae panics. 

“Are you crazy? It was beautiful,” Jinyoung didn’t need to say anything more, he figures he’s made a fool out of himself too many times in a row tonight. He’s being taken into Youngjae’s apartment, for god’s sake, what more could he ask for? 

The car ride has helped water down the effects of the alcohol in his body as panic replenishes his stimulation. He remembers calling Youngjae “super hot” right in his face, but he doesn’t understand how he came to arrive at his apartment after that. 

“Thank you, I’m happy you liked it,” Youngjae thanks him, the smile attracting Jinyoung to watch him click the seatbelt off and unlock the car door. He does the same, not wanting to be left behind as he stumbles out of the car and lifting his head close enough to have come into contact with the roof of the vehicle. 

“Do you need help walking into my apartment?” Youngjae watches him struggle over finding his footing. 

“No, I’m… good. Just need… a second to breathe.” The cold air whips him with another wave of dizziness and possibly nausea. Over the years, Jinyoung has prided himself for not ever throwing up when he’s drunk — but he thinks that may very well change tonight if he continues panicking over the premise of being brought back into Youngjae’s place. 

“I really shouldn’t listen to you when you’re drunk, hyung,” Youngjae concludes, preparing to sling Jinyoung’s arm around his shoulder for support as they walk with one foot forward over the other until they reach his apartment door. 

Jinyoung leans his head against Youngjae’s shoulder, liking the warmth his body provided him. The younger reachers over to turn a light on, and Jinyoung’s head started hammering into him like crazy once the lights enter his vision.

“I’m sorry, I just need to grab a few things and I’ll bring you to the bed soon. Just — don’t fall, okay?” With that, Youngjae dashes through the hallway and into a door. Jinyoung faintly hears cries of a small dog behind the closed door, but his eyes immediately scan the place around. 

It was clean and simple, just your normal bachelor’s pad with a few unwashed dishes sitting in the sink and an unopened box of ramen bowls tucked away at the corner of the counter. Jinyoung slowly gathers his balance as he walks over the living room to find any evidence of Youngjae and his significant other, anything that resembled the person he was with at the reception. So far, there weren’t any pictures displayed other than that of what seemed to be his dog, a small white maltese named Coco (as it says on one of the frames). 

“Jinyoung hyung? Are you still there?” 

“Didn’t even move an inch,” Jinyoung lies, finding his way onto the couch. Youngjae comes back with a set of PJs on top of his palms. 

“So, you can either tell me where you live so I can drive you back since you seem to have sobered up enough to remember or you can crash here for the night and I’ll let you borrow some clothes I haven’t worn in a while,” Youngjae offers sheepishly, placing the pajamas on top of the couch while grabbing a bottled water from his fridge and taking the aspirin out of his pocket. 

He waits for a response, and Jinyoung lets the screws turn in his head before making any hasty decision right away. 

Sure, he is sober enough to know his name, and his address.

 _But_ —was he actually sober enough to the point that he’d let himself miss this opportunity to just _pretend_ he couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of the street his apartment was located, so he can bask in the clothes that Youngjae offered him to wear — maybe even sleep in _his_ bed _with_ him? 

Jinyoung doesn’t like disappointing his friends, and Jackson did want something exactly like this to happen with him tonight. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” Jinyoung asks, an indirect answer to Youngjae’s question. The younger picks up the cue, the smile hiding itself from Jinyoung as he points to the door on the other side. Before leaving, Jinyoung takes the medicine and drinks a few more gulps of water before entering the bathroom with the PJs in hand. 

Youngjae said he hasn’t worn them in a while, but Jinyoung smells him in the fabric of the sleeves and he does nothing else but inhale it all in. The clothes fit him well, maybe a little bit loose around the waist. Jinyoung comes out of the bathroom to witness Youngjae donning oversized clothes of his own, placing his suit and tie on a hanger. 

“I can take your suit and hang them in my closet so they don’t wrinkle. Do the jammies fit?” Youngjae asks. 

_Jammies_ , _how cute_ , Jinyoung surmises before nodding his head in reply and giving away his suit and tie. Youngjae walks into what seems to be his room as he signals Jinyoung to follow him. There was a mirror attached to the sliding door of the closet where Youngjae drapes their clothes inside. 

This is the first time that Jinyoung sees himself from head to toe since the night started, he refused to do so in the bathroom while he was splashing his face with water and gargling the rest of the mouthwash on the cupboard. 

He looks a little freshened up from the wash, but his eyes strain red and the bags underneath do not help with his case of appearing exhausted and definitely _not_ in the right state of mind. The pajamas do look a little unusual on him since he rarely wore matching clothes to sleep at night. He peered into the mirror closely, noticing the tiny dogs lined up in a patterned fashion all over his clothes. It looks like the dog that he saw in the picture. 

“I’m guessing you’re a dog person?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Youngjae humors him as he sits on the bed watching Jinyoung stare at his reflection for five minutes straight, unwavering.

“Just a hunch,” he replies playfully. “I heard some barking in this room a while ago. Did you throw her out the window or something?” With statements like this, Youngjae thinks Jinyoung really hasn’t reached peak sobriety tonight at all, or maybe that’s just how his humor worked. 

“I took her to the spare room where her cage and bed is. She seems kind of exhausted as I had my neighbor dogsit her while I was gone the whole day, and they probably played a lot. I’ll let you meet Coco tomorrow morning, though — that is, if you don’t disappear on me all of a sudden,” Youngjae contemplates out loud, a hint of mischief lacing his tone but worry does etch his visage nonetheless. 

Youngjae wasn’t sure what would come out of their predicament tomorrow morning, he didn’t know Jinyoung enough to assume if he were the type to have a nasty hangover or wake up refreshed and looking like a new person altogether. 

“I’m hurt, Youngjae. You think of me so lowly,” Jinyoung feigns offense, grasping at his chest to which Youngjae exudes a small chuckle at. The older brings himself to the bed, plopping down next to Youngjae with a gap in between them. 

“I’m just making sure my hospitality isn’t taken for granted,” Youngjae teases. Jinyoung notices the lack of rings decorating his fingers, only the smooth skin with faint red marks evident on the surface. 

“What should I do to make sure I don’t take it for granted, then?” 

“Stay until breakfast! I make the meanest sunny side ups and fried rice,” Youngjae chimes, his posture straightening up and his eyes glinting at the mention of food. Jinyoung’s stomach grumbles at the very thought, but he hides it with a cough covered by his hand. 

“I don’t think I’ll have the energy to leave without having to ask you for another aspirin. I’m sure my hangover won’t be a pretty sight to look at tomorrow morning,” Jinyoung groans. He lets himself lay back on the bed, his back feeling at ease and relaxed after making contact with the mattress. 

Youngjae contemplates following his actions, but decides against it for now. He doesn’t want to make Jinyoung uncomfortable in his own home — he doesn’t want him to feel taken advantage of. 

“I’ll make sure to leave one on the bedside, and a glass of water for you too. I didn’t have anything to drink tonight, so it won’t be a problem for me to wake up tomorrow.” 

“You mentioned that you knew I was a preschool teacher? What else did they say about me?” Jinyoung suddenly asks, curious about the information that Youngjae holds over him. Youngjae is taken aback by the sudden change in topic, but responds to his query obediently. 

“Just the general stuff. You and the groom have been friends since childhood. You went to the same college, and befriended the same group of people. You immediately got a job offer at the school you interned at. Apart from the bride, you’re the only person who has ever seen Kyunghee crying his heart out — you know, general best man traits,” Youngjae looks over at Jinyoung whose eyes have fluttered shut and lips turned into a knowing smile. 

“That does sound like me,” Jinyoung comments, feeling satisfied at the amount of praise his friend has relayed about him. 

“He didn’t mention how much alcohol affected you, though.” 

Jinyoung blinks his eyes wide open, sneering at a chuckling Youngjae. “ _This_ was an accident. I wasn’t planning on getting drunk to this extent until Jackson influenced me to.”

“Oh, right. Who is this Jackson person, anyway? The name sounds familiar, but I don’t quite recall if they ever mentioned him.” 

“He’s one of our close friends, but he’s known me for longer,” Jinyoung explains, feeling guilty for suddenly leaving Jackson at the party without saying a word to him. “Fuck, I need to let him know where I am.” He pats around his legs for his phone, but panics over the absence of anything inside the pockets of his pajamas. 

“Oh, your wallet and your phone were inside your suit pockets. I took a quick peek and I think the battery run out. You can use my phone if you memorize his number. Here,” Youngjae offers him a quick solution, and Jinyoung is thankful for making himself memorize Jackson’s cell phone digits in case of emergencies. He didn’t think he’d need to, in fact he even joked that Jackson should be the one remembering _his_ phone number so Jinyoung can get him out of whatever mess he put himself in, and probably give him an earful or two. 

The phone rings twice until Jackson picks it up, the reverberating sound of heavy music and party cheers ooze into background noise. 

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Jackson, it’s Jinyoung.”

“This isn’t your number. Are you finally getting laid? With who? Shit, don’t tell me it’s the wedding singer! What’s his name agai—”

“Shut the fuck up for a second, Jackson. Jesus Christ— and to think I was guilty for making you worry over my absence at the party all of a sudden,” Jinyoung whispers into the phone harshly, turning his body away from a curious looking Youngjae still sitting on the edge of the bed. He only prays that the volume was low enough for Youngjae not to decipher the other end’s voice. 

“I know you can handle yourself, Jinyoungie. And I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“We’re not going to do anything,” Jinyoung groans, debating whether he was _telling_ Jackson that or making himself believe it too. “I-I don’t think I should. I don’t know. My head fucking hurts.” 

“Do you need another aspirin?” Youngjae loudly whispers over Jinyoung’s ears. Implying that he had been hearing what was said all this time. Jinyoung squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to drag the conversation with Jackson any more than it already has. He has said his piece, made sure his friend knew where he was staying over the night — even though it didn’t feel like he was concerned for his safety, and just knowing he was _getting_ some — and could worry about the results of his choices when the new day arrives. 

“As long as you guys are playing it safe, _I_ don’t have a problem with him. I don’t think he’s taken if he was willing to bring you over to his flat, so make sure you don’t—”

“Goodbye, Jackson. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Don’t—”

Click. Jinyoung sighs, nervous about meeting whatever expression Youngjae has if he turns around. The moment that he does, Youngjae has already plopped down on the bed next to him, his nose just an inch close enough to bump into his. 

Jinyoung has forgotten about the phone on his side, and instead has his eyes fixated on Youngjae’s stare — he’s unsure if it’s his imagination making everything more than what it is when he’s drunk, but Jinyoung watches the sparkle pool within Youngjae’s orbs, and the proximity of their breaths creating warmth in between them didn’t help Jinyoung’s nerves from scattering along his arms. 

“So?” Youngjae whispers, never leaving Jinyoung’s gaze.

“So what?” Jinyoung echoes. 

“Did you still want the aspirin?” 

“No, I’m…” Jinyoung doesn’t know whether to laugh or pity himself. He has been misinterpreting Youngjae’s actions and responses throughout the night as it seemed that the younger is just genuinely worried about his well being, and only wants to help make him feel better. Jinyoung feels guilty; it doesn’t matter that the alcohol probably heightened the exaggeration in his reactions, he was too infatuated with Youngjae to correctly discern his intentions, and maybe after tonight Jinyoung just needed to face the insecurity of his loneliness once and for all. 

So he can stop hurting himself like this, and that he can stop feeling like he even had a chance with someone as gorgeous as Youngjae — who probably did have someone with him, already. He still doesn’t know — does he want to find out?

“Why did you help me out, Youngjae?” Jinyoung attempts to ask, shuffling a little farther away from Youngjae— if they kept the little distance that they had from their faces, he wouldn’t know where his lips would lie in a second. 

“What do you mean? You were drunk and alone. I couldn’t just leave you knowing something might have happened,” Youngjae explains, confusion wiggling his eyebrows together. There it was again, that look that Jinyoung just wants to kiss away from Youngjae’s face, his hands dangerously close to touching him up there. 

Jinyoung stops himself, needing to know an answer to his urging question. 

“Kyunghee would have eventually spotted me— Jackson, I know he’s an ass sometimes, but he wouldn’t leave the party without knowing where I was. I could’ve just passed out at the bar until either of them saw me, anyway, but you went out of your way to get me out of there as soon as possible.” 

“You have a point,” Youngjae agrees, looking down on their bodies lying next to each other. “I mean, this alone is already weird, isn’t it? Like some kind of complicated one night stand in the making.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure,” Jinyoung laughs. Youngjae had a way to calm him down albeit with the unusual way he phrased things. “I don’t want to be in the way with your partner or anything because of this. I really do swear I don’t usually get shitfaced at big parties because I know I get out of control with the alcohol.” 

“You’re not getting in the way of anything, Jinyoung hyung,” Youngjae assures him, propping himself up from his position with his elbows against the mattress. He looks down on Jinyoung who continues to avoid his gaze all of a sudden. 

“So, you guys are in an open relationship or something?”

“What? Who? Where is this coming from?” Youngjae exasperates, unaware of where Jinyoung’s conclusions are in reference to. 

“That guy you were seated at the reception. After your performance, when you sat back down at your table he had his arm around you and it seemed like—I don’t know—like it meant something more than just a friendly gesture. So, I guess, I just assumed you were unavailable.” 

Youngjae stays quiet, taking in the information he was just told. Jinyoung thinks he has hit the nail on the head, frowning to himself. If he just didn’t say a word, and let this night go on without acknowledging what seems to be the truth, then he could have enjoyed a simple and innocent night talking to Youngjae about anything and everything other than his relationship status — and maybe, just _maybe_ he would feel fulfill that void in wanting to experience the kind of company that would just listen, and understand him as he would do the same. 

He could have pretended — like he always did with his feelings — that Youngjae would be the person to fulfill that role for him for one night, and that he can keep this memory locked in his heart to remind himself that people like him still exist, and that there can be someone out there for him just like Youngjae.

Maybe.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Jinyoung hyung. Jaebeom hyung and I — we’re literally just friends. I’m not in a polyamorous relationship with him or anything like that, we really aren’t. I guess you could say I had feelings for him at one point but that was _years_ ago, and we’ve gotten past that already. We’re just good friends,” Youngjae never imagined the day that he had to clear up his interactions with someone he hadn’t considered to find romantically connected to for the past three years.

Although, this is what Youngjae was scared of, his feelings for the man returning to him like a sudden storm but he knows that’s not the case. Jinyoung isn’t crazy for assuming something that was a possibility with him and Jaebeom before — dating each other, that is — but Youngjae just wants him to understand that he’s just been as attentive towards Jinyoung throughout the ceremony, and not two-timing him all this time. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were really looking at my direction. I actually told Jaebeom hyung I found someone really cute tonight which rarely happens at any wedding I’ve been hired for — so I guess his clinginess was a result of him being overly excited for me? I know it’s weird, that’s just how he is,” Youngjae adds, hopeful that Jinyoung believed his story. 

“I seriously thought of drinking too, knowing I wouldn’t have the courage to go up and talk to you. You came in at just the right time. I was that close to ordering a bottle of champagne all for myself. I thought it was the universe playing with me, but you looked really wasted and I knew I shouldn’t let my feelings overshadow my concern. I really thought I had to bring you to the hospital or something.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Jinyoung interrupts him, looking up at a shyly smiling Youngjae. The younger quickly covers his face with his shaking hands, and Jinyoung laughs at how cute he manages to appear by being so timid. 

He sits up himself, glad at how the conversation took its turn, but curious as to what more Youngjae had to say.

“Well, forgive me for being concerned about who I thought was the cutest guy in the room — which, by the way, thinks I’m _super_ hot, so that was definitely a plus on my part,” Youngjae teases, peeking a look at a smirking Jinyoung before he brings his hands back to his face. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to believe what I was saying at that time.”

“So you’re telling me it was a lie?” 

“I’m not saying that it wasn’t the truth.” 

“Jinyoung hyung,” Youngjae whines, wiggling his legs outstretched on the mattress. Jinyoung didn’t think Youngjae could look even more adorable in front of him, but the way that he is acting out his shyness after implying his own attraction towards him is sending his head in a frenzy of thoughts he does not want to entertain. 

“So, what was your plan here, wedding singer? You seriously haven’t brought anyone home at all after your gigs?” Jinyoung questions, grabbing Youngjae’s hands to expose his blushing face. The younger shakes his head, pouting at the disbelief in Jinyoung’s face. “No one would come up to me at all. I think I just faded into the background after I’d play the piano and sing a few generic love songs,” Youngjae clarifies. 

“Then they’re all fools. Uncultured fools,” Jinyoung crosses his arms, scoffing. 

“I’m glad you’re the one who saw my worth?” Youngjae poses it as a question, but meaning it all the same. Jinyoung looks at him, seeing the vulnerability in Youngjae’s face come out even more. 

He knows to himself he’s still pretty drunk, but he can definitely recall that his apartment is actually just ten minutes away from here, and that he is starting to feel significantly more sober due to the medicine he had taken before — however, Jinyoung knows the alcohol in his veins have not completely fizzled out for him to discern whether it was okay to kiss Youngjae right now or it would be too soon. 

It might be exactly the alcohol that muddled his mind to piece the sequence of events that happened in just a mere second after his thoughts, but Jinyoung’s senses fire up once his lips have found Youngjae with their bodies clashing against one another. 

The bed shuffles beneath them, with Jinyoung crawling atop of Youngjae, the older’s hands cupping supple skin as he craves the feeling it would transcend on his fingertips. Youngjae lies underneath him with his hands gently grabbing onto the older’s chest, gripping every so often that their kiss would linger in deeper. 

Jinyoung positions his legs on either side of Youngjae’s body, surprising himself for having the balance he had lost before entering the apartment. His energy suddenly fills back his body, pouring everything into the kiss they share. Jinyoung is feeling for any signs that he is making Youngjae uncomfortable, but the younger’s lips only invite him even more into him, the heated moans emerging from his throat that Jinyoung had to open his eyes slightly to make him believe this is even happening. He had kept wondering how those luscious lips of his moved with him if he weren’t singing, but Jinyoung is convinced that Youngjae kisses the way he sings: tender and passionate, straight to the point of what he wants to convey. 

Their lips continue to mold into each other, Youngjae loving the feeling of Jinyoung’s weight over him: not overbearing, just the right amount of depth and security around him. His hands find their way around Jinyoung’s neck, gently massaging the sides for stability on his part in which Jinyoung responds with a deeper and fuller kiss into Youngjae’s lips. He places his hands on either side of Youngjae’s face, wanting to focus all of his momentum onto the way Youngjae opens himself up to him like this, his tongue entering into his mouth with a soft poke. 

Jinyoung groans from his throat, the sensation of Youngjae’s tongue getting to him too much and too fast for his senses. He parts their lips abruptly, finally letting out quick gasps of breaths. Youngjae, wide-eyed, pants right under him. 

Youngjae tries to snake his arms away from the older, but Jinyoung shakes his head knowing what he was about to do and comes back down onto Youngjae’s cheek, bumps his nose with Youngjae’s. “I take it that you liked that,” he mumbles, stealing more kisses against Youngjae’s jaw and down to his neck. He sees another mole on the side, and smiling he focuses his kiss onto the sweet spot, sucking in a little. 

“Jinyoung hyung,” Youngjae manages to squeak out, feeling himself getting smaller and smaller at the way he is succumbing to Jinyoung’s kisses. He grazes his hands along the younger's neck, peppering him with soft touches of his pursed lips that send Youngjae shivering in response. He grasps Jinyoung even tighter, his hip suddenly buckling up from the stimulation. 

Smirking, Jinyoung lifts his face just a tad bit that bu Jinyoung’s arms to steady his mind, eyes fluttering close to savor the way he was being cared for, touched in all the right places. 

“Tell me what you want, Youngjae,” Jinyoung continues to whisper against shivering skin, tongue gradually drawing circles and teeth nipping at the site of Youngjae’s collarbone. The younger hisses in delight, but doesn’t tell him to stop. 

“I want… you to…” Youngjae whimpers, his mouth breathing in and out from the sensation of Jinyoung’s fiery touches. 

“Yeah? I’ll do anything for you, Youngjae.”

“I want you to sleep, Jinyoung hyung.” 

His tongue slips back in his mouth, misses a beat and slowly looks up at a sheepish looking Youngjae. He chuckles awkwardly, tilting his head before asking, “To what? Is that a kink if yours?” 

“No, Jinyoung hyung,” Youngjae chuckles, pulling Jinyoung down on the bed with him. Reluctantly, Jinyoung positions himself right next to Youngjae as he fits him around his arms. It’s the perfect fit — Youngjae automatically wiggle his way under Jinyoung’s embrace, and the older responds with a kiss on his head. 

“I meant, I’d like for you to rest tonight. As much as… as much as I really like doing this with you,” Youngjae starts off, nuzzling his face into the fabric of Jinyoung’s top. The older hums in response, smiling to himself but waiting for Youngjae to finish. 

“You’re still drunk, and I want to do this when we’re both sober and one of us not stinking of alcohol.” 

“Hey, I used your mouthwash,” Jinyoung protests playfully. Youngjae brings his face up to his, stealing a quick peck on his lips before scrunching his nose. “Yep, that aftertaste is no bueno.”

“Didn’t seem like it just ten seconds ago,” Jinyoung retorts back, but Youngjae’s pout makes him swoon internally which makes keeps his mouth shut as he watches the younger speak with his plump lips again. 

“You said it yourself you’re not leaving tomorrow, so maybe we can continue this over breakfast? When we’re both feeling well rested and freshened up.” 

“You really don’t do one night stands, do you Youngjae?” 

“Are you considering this as one, hyung?” He suddenly asks, serious. Jinyoung feels he’s struck a chord, but he is quick to reassure him by caressing his cheek with a gentlegraze of his fingers. Youngjae leans into his touch, sighing in content as Jinyoung responds, “No. Definitely not. I’d like to have breakfast with you tomorrow, Youngjae.” 

“Great. I’m sure Coco would love the extra company, too,” Youngjae chirps. 

“Oh, god. I have to be liked by your dog too.” 

“As long as you’re nice to me, then you’ll be fine in her book.”

Jinyoung smiles, “Got it,” before enclosing Youngjae into his arms completely, getting ready for sleep to finally hit his eyes. Youngjae yawns as he hugs Jinyoung back around his waist, facing him completely with his breathing falling into place with his slumber. His face did show signs of exhaustion, and Jinyoung couldn’t imagine the amount of effort and practice he had prior to singing at the wedding today, then committing to the decision to take care of a wasted Jinyoung throughout the night as well. 

Jinyoung wishes to sleep soon, but being able to watch Youngjae’s peaceful features as intimately close to him seemed like a rare occasion he didn’t want to miss. He hopes that it wasn’t, feeling himself anticipate the morning to come and the smell of food cooked by Youngjae for the both of them. If he were told that this would be the outcome of his attendance at his third wedding invitation, Jinyoung would probably laugh it off and argue that it would be too soon to share a bed with someone _and_ enjoy breakfast _together_ the morning after. 

But watching Youngjae’s eyelashes meet the surface of his skin, and the way that his nose exhales just a little too loudly as he scrunches it up a few times unconsciously, and the scent of him capturing Jinyoung’s attention even more despite his tiredness from the aftermath of those glasses of champagne — Jinyoung couldn’t get enough. 

He craved for more, but respected Youngjae’s concern of his body needing to rest. His worry only fueled Jinyoung’s desire to get to know him more, learn about his other quirks and witness all that nose crunching, lip biting, and finding out how many more rings he had to wear on his fingers. 

Jinyoung finally closes his eyes, a smile playing on his lips and the comfort of Youngjae’s company finally lulling him to sleep. The gap in his heart is overwhelmingly filled with Youngjae’s warmth as they embrace, and Jinyoung holds on tight so when they wake up tomorrow, they’d continue to feel at ease within each other’s arms.   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i sacrificed 2jae to bring life to 2young in here. i swear i'm not a traitor lmfaoaooa i'll definitely write more 2jae in the future - these are my main h*oes of course. 
> 
> but if you read it to this point, thank you so much for ur time! happy new year to u and i wish 2020 to bring lots of good fortune and amazing opportunities for all of us. i personally thank got7 for saving me yet again at my darkest times. i will forever be grateful for these boys huhu. ok im done being emotional eeeee 2young LIVES
> 
> ps. talk to me on twt @crescentars let's rave about our boys together over der OwO


End file.
